


Judge, Jury, Executioner

by Naberrie



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Gen, POV Third Person, The Promare aren’t quite gone au, This isn’t shippy I only tagged what I implied, i just really hate kray foresight, no betas we die like men, very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naberrie/pseuds/Naberrie
Summary: Lio holds no illusions regarding his own morality. He knows what he’s done, he knows his ideals, he knows when reality calls for him to put them aside. And he knows what he needs to do.
Relationships: Lio Fotia & Promare, Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos, Lio Fotia/Gueira/Meis
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

Something about the Earth was quiet now.

Following the celebrations and reunions, the world settled into an uneasy silence as the weight of everything that had happened over the last thirty years was felt all at once simultaneously along with the absence. There was a sense of horror as the adrenaline of battle and capture wore off and those who had suffered faced the entirety of what had happened to them.

Everyone associated with the Foresite Foundation and Freeze Force was placed under arrest (including Heris Ardebit, to Aina’s distress) by Burning Rescue. Ignis called in the assistance of Promepolis’s other departments to avoid any conflict of interests.

At first only the Burning Rescue departments were leading the rescue and emergency care of the captured Burnish, but before long volunteer forces from Promepolis had joined the efforts and set up a field hospital in the medbay of the Parnassus.

Lio found himself working alongside these volunteers, ignoring his own growing pain and fatigue. Some seemed afraid when he explained the singed remains of his clothes, and most tentatively relaxed as he told them how the Promare had left, how the Burnish were normal humans now. 

A few even sheepishly confessed to him that they too, were former Burnish who had been living in hiding. They told him of the terror they fought off every day, of close calls, of how someone they knew had disappeared, presumably being caught. As they talked, Lio felt a familiar warmth that had been irritatingly absent slowly begin to stir in his chest alongside his anger. A singular voice in his mind cried for him to burn, to make them pay for these people’s pain, but Lio assumed it was his own.

Eventually Gueira and Meis found him again- their initial, teary reunion already having taken place- and dragged him away from the actual rescue work with huge grins on their faces (well, Gueira’s face at least, though there was a sparkle in Meis’s eyes that betrayed his feelings). He protested at first, but eventually allowed himself to be led down towards the medbay as he knew they wouldn’t drag him away for nothing.

Upon arriving they excitedly announced that he, Lio Fotia, was their savior and the leader or Mad Burnish. Lio fought the urge to blush with both annoyance and embarrassment and was about to give them a piece of his mind until he saw the way the injured Burnish were looking at him. Their eyes shone with appreciation and tears and Lio’s heart softened as he remembered that being a leader was not just taking care of his people physically.

He went from bed to bed, accepting “Thank you”s and holding hands and accepting hugs. Once again, he found himself listening to stories of what had befallen them in Kray’s prisons, of loved ones lost to Kray’s experiments, of the horrors of the Engine. Lio found himself fighting back tears that became more and more demanding. How he longed to Burn, to let the flames envelope him and all of the Burnish once again, the warmth of the flames healing their broken bodies and the borderline telepathic empathy the Burnish had shared healing their minds. He felt… Stunted. Unable to express himself physically.

Lio was so focused on his people, his former people (though he was loath to acknowlege this) that he barely noticed strong hands catching his shoulders as he navigated between beds and pulling him to the side. He protested until Galo’s face came into view and he realized his vision was beginning to blur from exhaustion, his legs were as solid as gelatin, his hands were trembling.

“Its time to rest,” Galo said, and Lio opened his mouth to argue but found himself nodding instead. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept, truly slept, not just fallen unconscious.

Slowly, he and Galo began making their way down the hallways of the Parnassus, and Lio nearly missed Gueira and Meis falling in step behind him as usual.

-

Lio couldn’t remember making housing arrangements, so he assumed Galo had discussed it with Gueira and Meis while he was busy in the medbay. It seemed the three of them had acknowledged that none of them wanted to let Lio out of their sight and Galo had extended an invitation for Gueira and Meis as well as Lio to stay in Galo’s apartment until other suitable arrangements could be made.

Getting to Galo’s apartment was a blur, the first thing that Lio actually felt aware of in his exhaustion was the hot water of a shower. He wasn’t entirely certain where he was until he noticed blue dye stains on the towels and mats in the bathroom. Satisfied he was safe, he allowed himself to melt into the warmth of the shower, a luxury he genuinely could not remember his last experience with.

And to think the non-Burnish of Promepolis used it daily!

Thinking about how well the non-Burnish lived compared to the Burnish under his care infuriated him.

Once again, something stirred within his chest and a voice in his mind began crying for his surroundings to be reduced to ash. A warmth spread through his insides, matching the warmth of the shower, and Lio realized how cold he had been.

Had been. But not now.

Quickly he finished scrubbing himself down before wrapping himself in a neatly folded yet also blue stained towel that he found on the counter and wiped the steam from the mirror, staring at himself for a moment before closing his eyes and again following his train of thought that had stoked the warmth within him.

Again, it flooded through his limbs, but it was just a pleasant warmth, not the conflagration that had raged within him once upon a time. Focusing, allowing the emotion to wash over him like a wave, he attempted to channel the warmth into forming his sword.

A small flame flickered to life on the tip of his thumb.

Disappointment flooded him, but then hope.

The Promare had left. He had assumed this meant the Burnish no longer could communicate with them. He knew his attempt to summon flame would be in vain, though the heat that occasionally flowed through him had made him wonder. And somehow, Lio was still able to channel the Promare. Lio was still Burnish, even if all he could conjure was the equivalent of a candle.

A million questions and anxieties immediately flared in his mind, but he was too tired to humor them now. He dressed in the clothes Galo had offered him (they hung off of his gaunt body like he’d simply draped towels over himself) and left the bathroom. He allowed Galo to steer him to a bed (Galo’s bed?) and settle him in it (absolutely heavenly) and Lio drifted off to sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is like twice as long as the last one oops.

The next morning, Lio’s eyes fluttered open the moment sunlight hit his eyelids. He was unsure how long he had slept, but whatever it was should be enough, pounding in the back of his head be damned.

He carefully eased himself out of Galo’s bed, perfectly alert. You didn’t survive on the run by waking up groggy. There was a lump of blankets on the floor between the bed and the door with a few tufts of blue hair peeking out from beneath it. Galo. Lio carefully picked his way around his sleeping host, shaking his head because he wouldn’t have minded sharing the bed. Galo was too kind for his own good.

In the living room of the appartment, a strange sight greeted Lio. The couch had become part bed. A memory stirred in the back of his mind from his life before he Burned, this was a sleeper couch. The couch unfolded into the bed. Lio stood there for a moment, marvelling at the life Galo had that he could have something like that.

Meis, sitting on the far end of the couch-bed, gave Lio a nod before turning back to the television set that sat in front of the sleeper. It played quietly, set to a news channel. Lio watched for a moment as aerial footage of the Parnassus played, overlayed by banners and text, before walking over to Meis and putting his hand on his back.

“Have you slept?” Lio asked quietly. He had known before Gueira even came into view that he’d be curled up by Meis’s side, sleeping.

“Have you?” Meis said, not even looking away from the television.

“Yes, in fact,” Lio retorted. “I’m awake now. You can sleep.” Living life as a wanted criminal did a number on your ability to sleep without someone watching your back. Back in the compound, with the rest of Mad Burnish, it was easier as there were more people to rotate the guard shifts between them. Lio hadn’t lived in such circumstances for nearly as long as Meis and Gueira. He doubted Meis could have slept if he tried.

On the other hand, Lio was less used to a life where others were watching your back. He was a light sleeper, and had a tendency to attack when awoken by a person. He always woke as soon as it was bright enough to register in his sleeping mind.

Lio’s words didn’t seem to register with Meis. “Theres multiple channels reporting on the news,” he said carefully, eyes not leaving the screen. “Some are saying this was all our plot to take over the government.”

Lio scrunched up his face. “You didn’t really think everyone would be on our side, Meis?”

“No,” he said. “Its still good to keep an eye on the situation.”

“You’re right. Let’s try to stay inside today, especially since we’ll only be able to protect ourselves the old fashioned way.” Previously all of the leaders of Mad Burnish would have been able to walk down the street in Promepolis with no problems, but having let themselves be captured Lio doubted they still had the anonymity that the masks and armor had previously lent them.

Meis nodded in agreement, then turned to look at Lio finally, smiling up at him. “Thanks, Boss,” he says. He jerks his head towards Galo’s door. “Did he really sleep on the floor?”

Lio pressed his fingertips to his forehead. “Yes.”

Meis laughed, sharp yet quiet. “I tried to tell him it was okay for the three of us to share a bed but he wouldn’t listen.”

Lio rolled his eyes. The Chivalry. “I’ll talk to him when he wakes up. That and… Everything else.”

Nodding solemnly, Meis then reached down to nudge his way into laying down beside Gueira, who immediately grabbed onto him, prompted in his sleep by the change in position.

“Sleep well,” Lio said, but Meis didn’t respond. Most likely he was sleeping already.

In the ensuing quiet, Lio set about searching Galo’s apartment for anything that could access the internet that didn’t require a password. He didn’t have to search long before seeing Galo’s laptop sitting on the counter beside the fridge, covered in cartoon stickers that Lio couldn’t recognize. Opening the lid, there was a sticky note attached to the inside with what appeared to be all of Galo’s passwords scribbled on it. An amused smile crept to Lio’s lips as he shook his head at Galo’s latest demonstration of his lack of self-preservation.

The interface was unfamiliar but workable to Lio, despite having not used a computer regularly since he was a child. Pulling up a browser and search engine, he typed in Kray’s name. All that came up was the Foresite Foundation’s website and some older articles about the company. Lio frowned. Was the internet slower than he remembered?

Then he noticed the logo of the search engine. “Foresearch” it read, with a familiar letter F inscribed within a set of squares. Lio took a moment to marvel at the hold Foresight had held over Promepolis and presumably the rest of the world. He doubted any results talking negatively of Kray himself or the foundation would be shown.

Quickly he replaced his previous search with a search for Promepolis news which quickly yielded the home pages of multiple news websites. Better.

Each had articles about the current situation. Two were relatively unbiased, reporting that Kray Foresight had been arrested on many counts of murder, assault, and damage to property following an attempt to launch a space craft that failed due to intervention by Mad Burnish and Burning Rescue Station 3. Thousands of Burnish had been found imprisoned in what appeared to be torture devices aboard the ship and were in the process of being rescued and treated and accounted for. The Burnish claimed to no longer be pyrokinetic. The whereabouts of Mad Burnish’s leadership was undisclosed.

Lio had no problems with that. They didn’t have the full story, no one really did except for him and Galo. What concerned him were the other websites, the ones reporting that Mad Burnish had executed a hostile coup with the help of Burning Rescue Station 3 and that the leaders (with pictures of their mugshots from their previous arrest as well as grainier images of their armor) were still at large. Those websites were calling for his arrest, for Kray’s release, for other citystates to come to their aid in defending against the Burnish threat.

Lio stopped reading and ran a hand down his face, stressed. Despite his suggestion earlier, he really wanted to go back to the crash site to help with the rescue effort more, but it was beginning to look less and less possible. The people of Promepolis hadn’t forgotten his crimes, not even the ones that would be on his side once he had a chance to tell them the whole story. He likely wouldn’t even make it to the Parnassus without being arrested.

He wondered how many he had killed on his most recent blind rampage.

Thinking about this all gave Lio pause- he had never considered a future in which he would have to face the idea of potentially re-integrating with society. The happy ending he had pictured for himself was living in a Burnish colony that was recognized by the other citystates as a sovereign state and a haven for the Burnish. He’d wanted official liaisons installed in other cities- Burnish with as much control over themselves as he usually had- that would help newly awakened Burnish and those tired of living in hiding move to his colony. At the end of his revolution there wasn’t supposed to be a reintegration. He wasn’t supposed to be at the mercy of people who thought of him as a terrorist. Being seen as a hero didn’t matter much to Lio, but he hadn’t considered this being a possible ending. He had only ever foreseen death and the beginnings of a society that would understand the necessity of his crimes.

Crimes. Yes, they were crimes. Lio understood that. He had destroyed property and livelihoods, and further back in his past he had destroyed innocent people. His mind held no illusions of innocence. But there was nuance to it all- he only knew a handful of Burnish who were able to confidently say they had never killed anyone, not even on accident. Not to mention that the arson had been more of an act of war than simply a crime, for he and Mad Burnish had always understood they were at war.

He doubted Promepolis would see it as such.

Lio couldn’t even blame them.

But he had only been doing what was necessary.

His stomach clenched as he realized Kray would say the same about his actions.

His fists clenched as he thought- yes, he would allow himself to be held accountable by the law of Promepolis if it came down to it. But only after he ensured the safety of his people.

A twinge of sadness- the Burnish were no longer Burnish. While this was wonderful news for the Burnish’s public image, Lio found himself mourning his sense of identity. For Lio had Burned so young he couldn’t remember much of his life before. But that was silly. Now the public had nothing to fear from the Burnish. Now the oppression would end.

He would miss the flames however.

The Flames. The Flames! he thought, suddenly remembering his experiment the previous night. Excitement growing inside him, he quickly scanned and located a smoke detector on the ceiling of Galo’s apartment. He knew instinctively that it certainly had fresh batteries and was perfectly operational- the man was too obsessed with stopping fires for it to not be.

Instead of attempting to burn inside and avoid the smoke alarm, Lio crossed back through the living area to the balcony, opening the sliding door and stepping out into the cool air of the dawn. He faced the open space in front of him and held up his hand, willing it to ignite. The emotion that filled him now was hope, and he prayed that the Promare were listening, wherever they are.

Again, a small flame bloomed to life in his palm. He grinned triumphantly, and instinctively felt himself slipping back into his mind into the half meditative state he so often found himself in while Burning. He’d always thought it made it easier to hear the flames. But now he realized it was a state of communication with the Promare, instead of just giving in to their demands.

Before, there had been a chorus in his mind. Dozens of soft voices pleading with him to Burn for them. Now there was only one, and as if it sensed his question it answered, _We’re still listening._

Another flame sputtered to life on his other palm as he moved it beside the first one. He felt whole and complete again, the emptiness inside him that he’d felt since the Promare had departed further into the universe evaporate.

Lio wanted to tilt his head back and close his eyes and let the flames once again consume him. The fire wasn’t his, he was the fire. Rage and destruction and light and warmth and change. His entire body ached to burn without regard for consequence.

But it had been years since Lio had fully lost control (he didn’t consider his rampage a loss of control of his abilities as it was more a loss of emotional control). Even as his body screamed at him to fall into the embrace of the flames and let the distress he felt burn away, he didn’t. Gueira and Meis were inside the apartment, and he didn’t know if they still could hear the Promare. Galo was inside. Hundreds of innocents lived inside the apartment high rise. Only his hands would burn for now.

_We can’t hear them all,_ whispered the Promare in his mind, _but we can hear you._

Slowly the flames began to fade. Lio wasn’t sure if that was his own doing or that of the Promare. It was okay, however, now that he knew he could call upon the flames again.

He’d talk to Gueira and Meis later, show them what he could do and find out if they could as well. They were both fairly powerful, but not as powerful as he had been. They would be better indications of the general state of the Burnish.

For now, he had more reading to do.

—

Lio was several tabs deep into researching the Foresight Foundation, all while having a live broadcast reporting new information as it was discovered played on one. He perched precariously on Galo’s countertop, a mug of coffee from the coffee machine he had helped himself to warming his hands as he read.

He was so cold now. Even though he knew he could call on the flames if the situation called for it, they felt so much more distant than they had been for his entire life. Previously, they had been within him, fueling him, running through his veins as much as his blood carried oxygen. Now it felt like there was a fire in a fireplace in the next room and he had just left its comforting warmth.

The laptop humming in his lap helped some.

His legs were bent against the fridge, his back to the nearby oven. Lio enjoyed the freedom afforded by Galo’s too-large clothes as opposed to the restricting leather he usually wore.

This was the position Gueira and Meis, dressed similarly to Lio, found him in as they woke up and too migrated over to the kitchenette. Gueira promptly flopped into one of the kitchen chairs and it scooted across the tile with a screech. Meis sat in the chair beside him, much more calmly, and laid his head on Gueira’s shoulder. Lio nodded to them and then towards the coffeepot.

Galo followed soon after, looking far too cheery (in Lio’s opinion) for what had just happened. He didn’t even blink at any of the scene in front of him, not even Lio using his laptop, simply announced “Good morning!” before walking over to the coffee maker to pour himself and Lio’s generals mugs, which he set down in front of the two of them before joining them at the table and looking towards Lio. “What’s going on out there?”

Lio had previously been seeing this all unfold out of the corner of his eyes as he read, but now he looked up and met Galo’s eyes briefly. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Lio wondered if his host even owned any aside from the three he currently had lent out.

Lio looked back down at the laptop screen and sighed. “We’re terrorists that staged an unlawful coup and the general public is calling for our arrests.”

He didn’t need the Promare connecting them to feel the rage building in Gueira and Meis.

“Information is being fed to the press fairly slowly. I think Burning Rescue is a bit more concerned with the rescue efforts than with giving interviews at the moment. As they should.”

Lio slowly closed the lid to the laptop. “Our faces are all over the internet. I don’t think its safe for anyone in this room besides Galo to go outside right now. I hate that, I want to go back to the Parnassus, but I don’t think we’d make it without getting arrested or our asses beat.”

“Let them try,” Gueira growled. Meis rubbed his back.

Lio pressed his fingertips against his forehead. “Getting into fights isn’t a good look, Gueira. We have to consider our image now. Not to mention if it wasn’t for the Promare we’d probably all be in a hospital right now, and we don’t have our abilities. We need to train to fight without the pyrokinesis before I think we’d stand a chance.”

No one replied.

Lio turned to Galo. “How long can we stay here?”

Galo didn’t miss a beat. “As long as you need. All of you.”

“Thank you,” Lio’s voice broke ever so slightly, and Galo reached out a hand towards him. Lio stared at it for a moment before taking it. Galo squeezed before dropping Lio’s hand, not prolonging the contact. Lio was grateful both for the touch as well as the respect for Lio’s closed-off-ness Galo had just offered.

“I found a website with a list of everything Kray has been charged with,” Lio said, quickly moving past the moment of vulnerability (weakness) that he had allowed himself. “They’re talking about reforming the United Nations from years ago to properly prosecute him for war crimes and determine the extent of the damage he has done.”

Most of the world had fragmented into city states separated by vast deserts, loosely connected by previous national ties following the Great World Burn. It had been decades since there was any sense of international cohesion. The Foresight Foundation had been one of the few strings between most city states as it conducted business far beyond just Promepolis.

“Good,” said Meis.

“Bad,” Lio said, practically growling. “It will prolong everything by years. I can’t stand to live on the same planet as that bastard for that long.”

Galo straightened like a shock ran through him. “You think they’d execute him?”

“They should,” the words left Lio’s mouth seconds before he remembered that perhaps this wasn’t a great conversation to have in front of Galo, who had barely begun to process the reality of what his hero was.

He regretted saying it immediately, though not the words themselves.

Galo immediately jerked up and left the room.

“Open mouth, insert foot,” Meis raised an eyebrow at Lio.

“I know. I meant it though.”

“I know.”

“I’ll check on him in a minute,” Lio said. “I think he agrees with me and that’s why he’s upset.”

A few more minutes of tired scrolling and Lio placed the laptop back on the countertop before hopping back into a standing position and following Galo into his bedroom. He found him sitting on the bed, facing away from the door. He didn’t move or acknowledge Lio’s entry in any way, and as Lio crossed the room and his face came into view he could see tear tracks on his cheeks.

Lio wasn’t good at emotions. He wasn’t good at handling his own or other peoples. But Galo had been there to save him from himself and calm him down. He owed it to him to at least try to help.

He cautiously sat on the edge of the bed beside Galo. Now Galo turned to look at him but didn’t quite meet his eye. “That was insensitive of me,” Lio said simply. “I’m sorry.”

Galo didn’t reply, but he did lay his head on Lio’s shoulder. Lio was suddenly grateful for Gueira’s affectionateness as his hand automatically reached up to begin running through Galo’s undercut. Physical affection was still fairly new to Lio.

“He’ll get a fair trial,” Lio said. “I may not like it but he deserves the chance to defend himself.”

His words seemed to help Galo, he nodded his head gently, still resting on Lio’s shoulder. Lio, however, found himself getting angrier and angrier.

Kray was a danger to society. He shouldn’t be permitted to live. The manipulative bastard would worm his way out of whatever court. He doubted there would even be Burnish on the jury.

Lio continued to ramble on about the importance of a justice system, but in his head he had one thought: Kray Foresight must die.

-

That night, in his dreams, he was in the Engine once again.

As it spun, the imprisoned Burnish screamed and burnt up, ashes falling like a sickening confetti around him. The pain coursed through every atom of his being, and the fire licking across his entire body began to burn.

He was floating away, joining the macabre rainfall. The flames danced across his torso and up to his head, and as they consumed him they whispered with pain and rage and mourning in his ear: _Who did this to you?_

The last of himself floated away and he found himself sitting upright in Galo’s bed, shivering.

Carefully he climbed out and stepped over Galo’s sleeping form on the floor once again, and exited the room. It was still dark as he eyed where he knew the couch Meis and Gueira were sleeping (or at least one of them), but instead he rounded the corner and strode into the moonlight of the balcony.

Lio slid the door shut behind him and perched himself on the metal fire escape, moving as far away as possible from anything that appeared even slightly flammable. 

He gazed up at the stars and wondered which one the Promare had made their new home before closing his eyes and reaching for the flames mentally.

His shivering stopped as a familiar warmth filled him and his skin first began to spark and then flames danced across him as they had in his dream. But this time it didn’t burn, he didn’t hurt. The heat was nothing but comforting.

The single voice he had heard earlier chittered happily in his mind. Lio couldn’t always make out words but he could always make out intent and emotion.

The Promare missed their humans.

Tears of happiness stung his eyes, and then promptly evaporated as they began to run down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if the emotion was his or the flames’, but it didn’t really matter to him. 

The door slid open, and Gueira appeared from the darkness, eyes glistening in the pastel firelight. “Boss?” He exclaimed quietly.

“I couldn’t sleep. Nightmare,” Lio said, knowing that wasn’t why Gueira was reacting. Gueira must have been letting Meis sleep. He should have known and taken that into account.

But this was Gueira. Lio had wanted to show him anyway.

Gueira closed the sliding door behind him and sat a few steps down from Lio on the metal stairs of the fire escape. He held up his hands and closed his eyes, scrunching them shut in concentration. Lio watched carefully.

Just as Lio was about to give up, sparks that hadn’t come from Lio’s flame floated by Gueira’s hands. Gueira stared at his hands before looking up at Lio. “I can almost hear them,” he said. “Its like theyre just beyond what I can make out.”

“I think the Promare have gone far,” Lio said. “Perhaps the reason I was so powerful was my connection to them was stronger, and they’re still kind of in range for me.”

Gueira nodded, then held out his hand toward Lio. A request. Lio placed his hand, still flaming, in Gueira’s. The fire quickly engulfed Gueira as well, travelling up his arm before covering his entire body. Confident that Gueira was not hurt, Lio leaned down and pressed his forehead to Gueira’s. The fire danced around them both, their breath and emotions mingling.

Burning with another was an expression of intimacy among their people. Even without full flames of his own to mix with Lio’s, the magical empathy that connected the Burnish had flared to life between them. Lio had Burned with his generals many times before, starting from that first day when mixing their fire had shown them his desires and plans and sincerity in his beliefs.

They sat like that for a few minutes before Lio released his grip on the flames and they quietly evaporated into the night air.

“No one can know,” Lio said.

“No one can know.” Gueira agreed.

“I planned to talk to you and Meis about it later,” he said. “I don’t know if I want Galo to know. But I was very curious if the two of you could hear them still.”

Gueira nodded. “We’ll ask him when we get the chance.”

Lio nodded and the two of them remained there, hand in hand in the cool night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unsure when the next chapter will be up, it should be easier for me to write.


	3. Chapter

Lio held no illusions regarding his own morality. He knew what he’d done, he knew his ideals, he knew when reality called for him to put them aside. And he knew what he needed to do.

The thought had been rattling around his mind since his conversation with Galo: Kray Foresight must die.

As potentially the last full Burnish on Earth, this burden fell on his shoulders and his alone.

Gueira still could not hear the Promare. He had yet to have success at summoning full flames to his fingertips. Meis, similarly, was considerably fireproof, but was unable to even summon the sparks Gueira could.

Lio pitied them both.

The three of them had taken a trip out to the desert in the middle of the night, far from prying eyes, to test the extent of Lio’s remaining power. The leader of Mad Burnish that once had held the ability to level entire cities had he so wished now was no more powerful than your average, garden-variety Burnish. He couldn’t burn as hot or as long as he once did, and Lio suspected he was now vulnerable to the ice that previously had simply been a minor inconvenience.

He could still summon Burnish metal and shape it as he pleased, though he did not test how long it would remain solid. He still had the precision and control to shape the flames even in their plasma state into a bow and arrows and fire it with the practiced accuracy of an archer with the years of training he had.

The Promare themselves seemed happier when he would reach out to them. The flames seemed to be dancing and leaping off of his skin, even more so than before. He found himself unable to keep from grinning with the delight that filled his mind, emanating from the connection between their conciousnesses. 

Lio, the Promare whispered in his mind as he called upon them. Lio, Lio, Lio.

They had never said his name before.

He realized he hadn’t said their name before recently either.

He didn’t tell Gueira and Meis about that. He also didn’t tell Gueira and Meis why he really wanted to know the extent of his abilities. 

Galo wasn’t told anything. Lio didn’t know how to tell him.

—

About a week of dwelling on the information before him, Lio decided it was time.

The decision was arbitrary, definitely a result of the restlessness of cabin fever. Lio had paced so much that he knew he could have burned a hole in the floor, had this been a few weeks prior. In fact, Lio had often burned a hole in the floor before he had found healthier ways to release the pent up energy that most Burnish felt.

The cool air on Lio’s skin felt dissonant to the heat pumping through his veins as he sneaked out of Galo’s window. The tricky part was avoiding the gaze of whichever of his generals had the watch in the main room, which limited Lio’s methods of exiting the apartment.

He wore a familiar all black, now a tightfitting spandex in lieu of the skintight leather of a motorcyclist. Galo had left one day to get food and returned clothes for his houseguests that were much more approximately their sizes than Galo’s own clothes. A gift, he had elaborated, from all of Burning Rescue Station 3.

Quietly, he slunk down the fire escape, the cold of the metal railings stark against the fire he felt burning through his veins with the anticipation of his plans. Sparks leapt from his skin intermittently as the Promare chittered curiously in his mind, perhaps wondering why he was so worked up.

Lio had heard their voices as long as he could remember, even years before he first Burned, and despite the distance the voices were clearer than ever. Awareness of their sentience had opened them up to him more, he had never really been able to parse more of the emotions and intent behind the voiced than simply excitement and longing to burn. Now it was like he was beginning to learn their language, not quite enough for complex communication but enough to pick up on the general tone and subject.

The streets were mostly empty as he slunk down them, hood up. He had memorized the route over the last week in preparation, a skill carefully cultivated by a past of homelessness and general lawlessness. The walk itself was not long, Galo’s appartment as well as Burning Rescue Station 3 was close to the midpoint between the Parnassus wreckage and the administrative district of Promepolis. It was not long before the familiar façade of the Promepolis Jail loomed before Lio.

Lio had escaped from this building mo fewer than three times as a homeless teenage Burnish, a life that had put him constantly at odds with law enforcement even as he simply tried to survive and not hurt anyone. Now he was breaking in.

Quietly he slipped around the side of the building to where he knew a maintenance door would be. The door had an electronic keycard reader beside it, but also an old-fashioned lock in the door. This was fairly typical of Promepolis, Lio had learned through his planning of various arson attacks. In the event of the electronics being destroyed by fire, the building still needed to be accessible, which meant most buildings could still be accessed through mechanical means.

He laid his hand over the lock and breathed deeply, closing his eyes to better visualize the formation of the Burnish metal. The Promare sang in his mind as flames began to flow into the lock before solidifying into the exact shape necessary to push the pins into place and unlock the door. Lio twisted his hand, and the newly-made metal followed his instruction, the door clicking open quietly.

He quickly entered the building and located a fairly large yet still reasonably vent-sized opening to the vent system. He made quick work of the cover and pulled himself inside. He fit, but only barely. This had been much easier as a teenager.

The past week, he had studied blueprints of the building, accessed using Galo’s password on an official city information portal for public servants, the best path to get to his old cell. He hadn’t even needed to wonder where Kray would be held, as he knew there was only one cell anywhere near equipped to prevent the escape of a Burnish of the power level he and Kray had been. It was the same cell he had been locked in each time, and each time another prisoner had been moved from the cell to make room for Lio as each time he had been deemed the more dangerous threat. Even as his crimes (mostly shoplifting, once grand theft auto) had not been related to his status as a Burnish and his abilities had not been used, as soon as the police detected his capabilities he had been stuck in the highest security cell. Each time it had become more and more difficult to escape from as his escapes had led to more and more precautions. It was only the final time that he had taken the vents as he was doing now.

He knew with Kray they would take no chances, even as Lio himself had informed the team that arrested him that he no longer was a danger.

Crawling through the vents was so tedious and uneventful that Lio lost track of time before finding himself before the vent that the blueprints had indicated led to the cell. It screwed shut from the outside, he knew, and the time for subtlety was over.

There was no point hiding his flames now when he fully intended to burn Kray Foresight alive.

He closed his eyes again and reached for the Promare, who still sang in his mind. They happily reached back, and he allowed himself to be fully wrapped in their embrace as the multicolored flames spread across his skin and his entire body burned. Mentally exerting himself against the vent cover, it flew off with a bang. Lio used the flames to propel himself out of the vent and dropped into a roll onto his knees.

Kray Foresight sat upright in his bed, the confused look of someone awakened mid-slumber playing across his face. Lio stood and walked towards him, flame footsteps burning behind him.

Before, when Lio had attacked Promepolis, he had envisioned himself a dragon bringing chaos and destruction upon a city and the flames had listened. Now, striding towards the man who had committed genocide against his people, he envisioned himself an angel of death and judgement. The Promare indulged this mental image of himself, responding to the purity of his rage and despair at both the crimes Kray had committed and what Lio had to do, and he felt them forming two large wings on his back, fanning out threateningly.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Clarity passed over Kray’s face and iridescent flames leapt from his skin as well, and instead of fully enveloping him as Lio was they formed quickly into Kray’s phantom arm.

Lio was not the only Burnish. Kray still was as well.

Panic consumed him as he realized his failure to consider this possibility. How could he have not thought about this?

The simple fact was that this had not been a well-thought plan at all but a rather elaborate revenge fantasy.

Of course Kray was still Burnish. Why would Kray, the only Burnish Lio had ever found to be his equal, much less Lio’s better, be susceptible to Lio’s flames when even Meis and Gueira were fireproof?

Now was not the time to contemplate Lio’s impulsivity as Kray took advantage of Lio’s hesitation and leaped out of bed to stride to meet Lio. The ghostly, fiery fingers of his arm wrapped around Lio’s neck and pushed him back, back until Lio connected with the wall of the cell and he found himself gasping for breath under the crushing pressure against his windpipe.

He struggled, clawing for purchase against the arm but the flames shifted beneath his fingers. He reached towards Kray’s face, his neck, but he was already losing strength and unable to do anything more than feebly brush against the skin.

“Lio Fotia,” Kray hissed in his ear. “Did you really think your display would scare me?”

Lio was floating.

“No matter. I was going to wait to escape but I suppose I have no choice now that the cat’s out of the bag.”

Bits of Lio flaked away beneath Kray’s fingertips, he was beginning to turn to ash. He was floating further and further away.

Deep within his chest, Lio suddenly became aware of the Promare, furiously burning around his neck, healing Lio’s windpipe even as Kray crushed it. Burnish metal formed around his neck like a collar, between Lio’s skin and Kray’s fingers, pushing Kray’s hand more open until Lio was able to take a gasping breath.

Regaining the tiniest sliver of composure, he again mentally exerted himself, this time against Kray’s body that had been pinning the rest of Lio’s body against the wall. Kray flew across the room from the force of the explosion, and Lio slowly lowered to the floor, supported by the flames as he coughed and gasped for breath.

The Promare in his mind were raging. Who hurt you? they cried, their meaning as clear as a bell through the matching rage both they and Lio felt. Who did this to you?

They burned brighter around his body, healing flames licking their way up his windpipe, and the pain preventing Lio from breathing deeply dissipated into the conflagration. Who hurt Lio?

Across the room, Kray was picking himself up off the floor, flames already dancing around what Lio presumed were the sites of the blunt force trauma from Lio’s defense, similarly attempting to regain his composure. But the flames around him did not burn as brightly or as insistently, almost hesitantly, and a realization hit Lio like a truck.

Lio had befriended the Promare, burning with them and fighting for not only their good but for the good of the Burnish whose pain the Promare felt. Kray had repressed them and used them as a tool, confined them, controlled them.

The Promare were protecting Lio of their own volition. Kray was using the Promare to help himself.

Who did this to you?

His dream of the Engine played again in his mind. The Promare screaming alongside the Burnish in pain and anguish and despair. The snow of death falling around him.

Mentally, Lio hit the rewind button, calling to the front of his mind alongside his memory of the Engine his memory of everything else that had happened that week. His fight with Kray, his discovery of what Kray had done to Prometh, nearly freezing to death under the icy grip of the chain freezing bullet, Freeze Force taking everyone he was responsible for. He reached back even further to older Burnish telling him rumors of what the government did to people like them, to Thyma’s death, to what he had witnessed in the prison built specifically to imprison the Burnish.

The Promare were watching.

He could feel them watching his memory, processing, connecting the dots.

And suddenly, across the room, Kray screeched in pain.

His fiery arm wrapped around his body and dissolved against it, losing its shape and instead becoming a conflagration, spreading across Kray’s body. His clothing began to burn away, and his skin bubbled. The flames themselves burned furiously, and Lio saw within their depths not only colors he had never seen in a Burnish flame but colors he had never seen at all.

The fire became too bright to look at and Lio averted his eyes, realizing what was happening. “The flames burn our bodies,” he whispered, “but they also heal us.”

The Promare had stopped healing Kray. He was burning himself to death as the Promare angrily burned through his body.

They were burning him alive.

It wasn’t long before Kray’s screams ceased and his skin had become charred. It was then that Lio became aware of an insistent hammering at the door to the cell and he became aware of a large slab of Burnish metal that was wedged against it to prevent it from opening. He was unsure where it had come from, be it his own making, Kray’s making, or the Promare themself, but he flicked his hand at it, willing it to dissolve into sparks, fully aware of what came next.

Burning Rescue members (not Station 3, thank god) rushed into the room, ice blasters blazing, so to speak. Lio did not resist as he was restrained in the freezing prison, and in line with his prediction he found the ice burned in a way it had not previously. The firefighters pushed against the blaze enveloping Kray’s remains as one remained by Lio, blaster barrel trained on him.

“What did you do?” she asked through the speaker of the mecha, and Lio knew despite the appearance of her attention being on him she was watching the firefighters struggling against the horrific blaze across the room.

“I didn’t kill him,” Lio said. In his mind, the Promare again sang, but now with triumph and relief. “The Promare did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long! I came down with COVID after returning from C2E2 😅 I’m better now don’t worry!! I’m very happy to have this done finally, hopefully I’ll have more Promare content soon!  
> Check out my instagram for my cosplay (@apotheotic.cos) and my twitter for my stream of conciousness rambling (@apotheoticc)  
> don’t ask me how proofread this is feel free to let me know if theres any errors

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is a little weird, I’m trying out something with the style. I promise there will be dialogue, this is mostly setting up for the rest of the story.
> 
> I’m not in fact dead, just haven’t been able to write anything coherent enough to post in the last year due to general life shit. This is the first time in a while I’ve had clear enough inspiration to write something like this.
> 
> I may make this all one chapter once I’ve got it finished, I’m not sure. Depends on how it all flows.
> 
> Also I know, I know, I actually wrote something not in second person! I must say I’m disappointed in myself.


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